Open Course Ware? Where?

For years, I saved a bookmark to a particular institution’s OpenCourseWare files in case I wanted to teach myself something (read: I got some masochistic desire to try veterinary medicine again). If you recall I mentioned reclaiming my German heritage recently, I decided it was finally time to learn German well enough to speak it, read, and write it. While I listen to some music in German and have the skills to read translations, I cannot actually sit through a friend’s livestreams and properly understand him, nor can I truly communicate with him and his chat. Suddenly, I feel… illiterate; to me, literacy directly measures intelligence, and I immediately feel like the dumbest person simply because I cannot communicate. Would I pass such judgment on another human being? Of course, I’m kinder to others, but I digress.

Back to the subject, the “Open” Course Ware appeared promising at first — several courses available with syllabi and calendars. Upon downloading the required materials, I noticed a disappointing discrepancy, though. Essentially, the framework provided appeared more suitable for an instructor needing a pre-built course, not a student looking to learn on their own! The required texts included a workbook published in 1998! I have zero hope that a blank copy would still exist in January of 2026. What exactly was the point of me holding this bookmark from an Ivy League school if said institute wasn’t actually going to provide the assignments for free as previously stated?

I do realize I am grumbling to my laptop screen, search engine spiders, data center scanners, and perhaps two or three individuals who decided to click the link on social media or in an email. I can live with that, but what I cannot abide is the continual discovery that society has an honesty problem. It starts with, “try it, you’ll like,” and ends with, “haha, you just tried rabbit!” and a crying child. Then it progresses further until a feral forty-something decides she’s had just about enough of the world’s nonsense and wishes she could shout all of her favorite four-letter words from atop Lookout Mountain. I mean, if you’re going to be stuck somewhere, you might as well use the local landscape to project your rage, right? Perhaps one day soon, I will include German vulgarities in the stream of profanity when I finally lose my temper — of course, I would be lying if I said I didn’t already learn several before the age of 5, though. I heart NYC!